


Boiling Ice: DnD Adventures, Ryurk

by Sgt_Rypht



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Half-orc, Roleplaying Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sgt_Rypht/pseuds/Sgt_Rypht
Summary: Ryurk has reached the edge of the storm and found the eye a calm he does not enjoy. His master left a curse on him after their departure, one that left him weak and helpless...and worse stripped him of a memory he held dear.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story about this oneshot. This wouldn't have happened if I didn't mess up my character sheet badly. My DM and I had to think of a narrative reason why my character is suddenly stronger (going from 15 to 20 strength among small mistakes I made throughout my character conception because of a failed homebrew) and why his character's personality takes a shift (because of me as a player trying to get better at role playing.) So we thought of a curse and a backstory for the character to flesh him out and give him more purpose in the party. This was the result. I hope that you like it! If you want more, I can try to occasionally work here and there!

_ The Broken Calm _

Ryurk--giant slayer, water shaper, lone sword, and father of a white dragon--sat alone at the spring of Beorunna's Well unsure of who he was anymore. The pieces of him were there in his heart, lying broken within his chest. Where he should’ve dull, tired from a night of fighting and feasting, his body felt alive for the first time in a long time. His party had changed something today, broke something free that he didn’t recognize anymore. Was this even him? He scratched at his back, clawing and clawing as though the tattoo still coiled around his spine and he could rip it off from his skin with his nails alone. Who are you? The words danced in his head and choked every thought. Who am I? 

He lowered his feet into the bubbling water. The heat burned at first and he felt it. Every part of him felt everything now. Scars long healed ached faintly on his skin, his muscles tired underneath as though he ran for months on in without rest. It was like his body was asleep, unknowing of the workings of itself. Yet through this pain, he found some energy for the first time. He grabbed his own wrist, stopping the itching on his back. It was becoming too much right now. Everything was too much. The stars were too bright, the fragrant smells of the forest too strong. He heard Pabi snoring despite being quite a bit off. The warmth...the heat...of the spring anchored him down. Through it, he was calm ...though the word now scared him.

Ryurk didn’t have to heart to tell them the truth about the tattoo’s meaning. Weaken was one interpretation, a more direct one with the dialect his family used. What it meant truly was calm. It was a slap in the face from his Master from miles away. He remembered his Master’s teaching, how he drilled the necessity of calmness within Ryurk’s mind. Master Ku didn’t want a boiling spring, he wanted an ice cap--a cold, calculating student of justice and rightness. The right student. The right samurai. The laws were meant to be followed and obeyed. Any deviation created a deviate. When Ryurk left in that dead of night, this was his punishment: to be calm, a lake of unperturbed water that knew nothing of waves. 

Looking back, he saw pieces of himself emerging. Those times he almost felt normal. Fighting helped, it broke through that veil for a time. Drinking and gambling too. But when the fighting was over, the gambling, the drinking subsided, the calmness returned. It choked him, he now knew. He wasn’t himself. He hadn’t been himself in decades. That scared him. Who am I? Fear soon melted to anger. 

The fiery urge to fight, drink, gamble, and far worse rippled through his body now. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to go wild. His body shook at the desire. He wanted to yell, go free in the wild and tear an animal apart with his bare fingers. A bear. A bear would be a challenge. He could find one and be back by morning. No. Lhoris wouldn’t like that much, he knew. Ryurk fumbled for his flask, fingers still shaking. He downed the entire flask, tasting the mixed drink on his lips barely. Weak. Weak. Not strong enough. Who am I? He didn’t feel like himself. Was this who he was before? He couldn’t remember. How was forcing him to change justice? How was this goodness in his master’s eyes? Ryurk threw the empty flask into the ground and shattering it...and let the rage fall. 

He looked over his shoulder, hoping for a moment that he didn’t wake the rest in his outrage. No. No one seemed to be awake. Clarke, Pabi and Jai were still asleep and Lhoris...well...they were as asleep as a thousands of years old elven druid could be. Ryurk rose from the spring in a gentle splash. Water dripped from his legs and feet, mudding the soles of his feet as began to pick up the stray parts of the ruined flask. 

Walking along the shore, he caught a glimpse of himself in the rippling water. The broken curse changed that too. He was never a small man; now, he was a literal monster. His muscles were thick as trees, his shoulders as wide as a bull. Most noticeably, he lost his relaxed hunch he cultured through the years. It made him appear taller though he knew that wasn’t true. The yellow in his eyes were tinted with his father’s red now in the dark of night. Were they always like that? No. They weren’t. Frustrated, Ryurk scratched at his long beard in a vain attempt to stop clawing at his back. The new strength, the undulled senses, the urge of life and power continued to swirl within him. All different. All new. He didn’t know what to feel anymore. The only thing he could think to do was to train. Perhaps it would hammer his now bursting energy into sleep. Or at least, that was what he hoped. There was no finding the rest of that flask anyhow. 

Tiptoeing through the outside of the camp best he could, Ryurk made it to his bag of weapons. There was no rhyme or reason to how he packed his arsenal within the bag, weapons hanging from the large leather sack. When on his back, more often than not it appeared as though the entire sack would break under the pressure of his collection. He knew it wouldn’t. Others didn’t. The only weapon that remained outside of that mess of metal was Kuraoi. He touched the white and blue blade, picking it up from with care. Flecks of mist rolled off the edge of the blade, reminding him of the mountains of his home at the start of spring. Holding it...her...tingled something in the back of his mind. There was a voice, faint and soft as a whisper. “ _ You know who you are,” _ the familiar voice whispered. Kuraoi’s. A friend...long lost to the memory.  _ “You know who you are because you can hear me again.”  _

“Who--” Ryurk began, looking around. He remembered. The first person he failed to protect. The reason he became a samurai in the first place. Kuraoi. How could he forget? Was the curse that bad? Was his rage about her that terrible that his master saw him as a threat?“I’m sorry.” 

_ “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You may have forgotten, he may have separated us but...I’ve always protected you. Did you really think that I was going to let that giant kill you and your friends?”  _

“I--” 

_ “You know who you are. You aren’t black and white law. You are unbridled strength that crashes into rocks along your shore. You’re recklessness, the moment you jump forward without a second thought to protect the people you care about. You’re commanding, your voice thunder on the wind. You protective like an animal on the prowl...and you’re kinda stupid.”  _

“Hey!” 

_ “Well, it’s true. You aren’t what your master tried to make you and for that...he punished you...unmade you into someone you weren’t. But I was always here. Watching and living in this sword until one day you awoke again. My name is Kuraoi Snowstar and you once loved me. We are now apart in different planes but we are never alone. Be who you are. Remember. Heal. But be the man you wished to be. Become the Rageriver once more. Be who you were always meant to be _ .

Like a gate, his memories and feelings he hadn’t remembered came flooding back. He remembered Kuraoi’s face, a halfling girl with hair as white as snow and ice-crusted flowers in her hair. A sharper memory struck afterward. Her village burning and death all around her. The memory burned in his head, broken free along with the rest of the feelings of his body. He held it close all the same. Ryurk clutched the blade. He remembered his father making it, he remembered praying at her grave with it on his lap. The ice he had enchanted it with wasn’t a choice on a whim. It was yet another thing escaping from emotions sealed behind a door. He rubbed the hot tears from his eyes. This was the beginning. This was the first step to becoming the man he remembered. “Kuraoi.”

_ “Yes, love.” _

“Don’t ever leave me again.” 

_ “I never did, Ryurk Rageriver. Now go. Pick up the blade, train, and heal, knowing that I'm always holding your weapons with you.” _

Her voice disappeared into the night. The mist on the edge of the unsheathed blade rolled off in a burst, gently and softly rolling up into the air as a flower. Ryurk’s emotions, still new and raw, boiled and flared. He stood, his massive body quaking the earth around him. The ice rolled onto his doubled handed grip, forming and melting and forming again from the heat of his now boiling watery flesh. He swung his sword for the first time. It whistled through the air with a clean slice, the very power of it like a gust of wind. The faint crisp smell of the mountain top hit his nostrils. At this moment, he felt like a god. A confused god, one that knew nothing of his own power and strength anymore but a god all the same. Though the uncertainty wasn’t far from gone, he knew where to begin. Rageriver. 

He held on to the words in his head as he trained. He remembered every stance, circling through Water, then Stone, then Wind. Lightning still eluded him. The size of his body made even the other three difficult. The clothes didn’t help. Everything felt so tight against his body to the point he had no choice. He ripped off his sleeves and then his pants below the knee. Did it make him look the feral animal he had become? Sure. But they were in his way. With time, he would learn again. Swing after swing, he practiced. The crystals of ice whistled in the air, clanking softly against the ground. He held on to his memories, his failures up until now.

He remembered Rosni and Jai, touching death as fire from a mage consumed everything around them. He remembered the nightmares he had the night after watching Clarke fall to the giant in her own city at his side, hearing Bryn’s blood-curdling scream and sharp sickly green light that followed. Then there were those countless mistakes, each and every one of them possibly leading to the death of someone he loved. He was helpless then. Weak. Barely clinging on to his own life as his friends almost died around him. His master had made sure of that as a lesson, not knowing what he did hurt more than Ryurk himself. With a final slash, he looked over to his new sister Pabi curled up by his empty bedroom and then up the airship where his son Mochi slept. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. Lordless or not, masterless or not, he will learn and win at any cost. 

Honor meant nothing to the dead. 

Taking one last moment for himself, he relaxed. The excess energy seemed to have faded just a little. Sleep, however, was still a long way off. When your sense and emotions were dulled for decades, perhaps sleep was a far concept for the body to process. Still, he needed the rest. He knew nothing of who he was anymore, years stolen in what looked like a harmless light fog. He would have to remember. The pieces in his heart were still broken and his mind couldn’t process everything that changed within him. Tonight was only the beginning. 

Through the faint sounds of bubbling water, crackling fire, and gusts of wind, Ryurk heard movement behind him. It was a soft presence, though incredibly dark and mildly foreboding. There was a certain air to her, one that he hadn’t noticed before. He wondered how he had never noticed that before. Did all of his friends feel so magical? He turned to Jai, seeing her dark clothes and long black hair outlined in the campfire light. She inspected him for a long uncomfortable moment as though seeing him for the first time.

“Uh...hi, Jai, I can explain?” 


	2. Well Wishes from a Djinni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryurk recovers after a fight with an ancient dragon to meet his masters jeering gaze in his sleep.

“Look how nothing has changed.” 

Ryurk awoke to the sound of his master’s voice. Not awoke, he knew, but his eyes were open. He was standing on the air, well above the blue sky and endless green with clouds between his toes. Standing before him was Master Ku. He was everything he remembered him to be: tall beyond compare, long hair as white as morning fog, skin as blue as the sky around him, eyes the colors of sunlight in the dawn. Across his bare chest and down his hakama was bright yellow tattoos that burned to stare at. He cocked his head as though he had something only vaguely interesting, something that was rapidly losing his attention by the minute. The djinni gave the softest grins, his wisps of clouds woven within his beard turning up around the edges of his mouth. “I see that you broke my curse, but I suppose  _ that _ wasn’t even your doing...was it?”” 

Any words of protest died on Ryurk’s lips. He knew in his dream that he wasn’t hurt. The burns from the maw of the lightning weren’t here in this plane nor the swimming head from the boulder that nearly killed him. Here he was healthy. Here he was whole. But was he really? Even in a dream, they hurt. They roared stories of his failures once more and whispered tales of many more. He would never be strong. That was his reality and his master knew the words lingering in his head.

“I would say that I’m disappointed, Ryurk, but that would require me to have expectations at this point. Sometimes, I muse on the idea that if you stayed with me that you might’ve made something of yourself, but for once you make me doubt my own abilities as a teacher. There’s only so much I can do with a student and even I have limits.” Master Ku paced around their cloudy summit, walking but never losing eye contact. “Look at you, you’re bigger so that maybe you’ll be stronger. You think because your head is clearer that you can fight  _ better _ . No. None of it is true. You can train a million years and still you would be the same: watching the people you love die until one day you follow suit.”

Ryurk gave a weak laugh. “Did you come here to gloat?” 

“I’ve come here to tell you the simple truths that you seem to be too blind and deaf to notice. You are weak. Stop this charade.” Master Ku waved his hand, opening a small portal. Within the portal, he showed the airship in which they slept. Beside Ryurk’s sleeping form was his kobald sister Pabi. She writhed in her sleep, tears rolling down her eyes. “You did this to her. You chose to bring her along and play teacher when you can’t even learn your own lessons. She could’ve died, you know, as easily as your friend Jai.” Master Ku snapped the portal shut. Jai is her name, right” It’s a shame that I cannot show you what she’s going through. But...I guess you already remember. You watched as lightning struck her down. It took your friend Clarke and her magic to do what you could not. All you can do is run. But I suppose without Lhoris, you would’ve failed at that. That’s all you’ve ever been good at so I’m wondering how low can you possibly go.”  
“Tell me what do you want,” Ryurk finally snapped. “Tell me or leave.” 

“I want you to  _ stop _ ,” Ku responded. His voice snapped hard, his voice booming in a crack of thunder. He stared at his student with those harsh green eyes. “I felt it. I felt when the curse cracked and your memories returned. I felt the moment you wanted to kill me. I felt the moment where you began to feel strong for once your life. You know that’s a lie now. You know that fancy of even scratching me with your sword was just that, a fancy. Stop entertaining the notion that you’re a warrior. Stop fantasizing about doing great things and protecting the people when you can’t even protect yourself. You will never be a legend when you can’t even do the one thing that you wanted to do, kill the villains. Why embarrass yourself further?” 

“I want to do good…” Ryurk said, his voice weak. 

“Wants mean  _ nothing! _ ” Ku stepped forward, dipping down to meet Ryurk face to face. His nose met his. It took a lot to make Ryurk feel small.“If you want a drink, you can pay for it. But if you want strength, there’s nothing you can do to get that on the house.” 

“I have to try.” 

“And how many bodies is it going to take to show you that you’re wrong?” 

Ryurk stepped back. He wished he had anger to draw from but found nothing only truths in his words. They ripped at his sides, tearing his apart bit by bit. The frustration became too much to manage. Here, in front of his master, he wept. He didn’t even have the strength to keep even that to himself. It was true. More than anything, he wanted to be strong to protect the people he loved. What did that get him: a dead wife, burnt down villages, and friends and family on the edge of death. There weren’t a sliver of his master’s words that didn’t strike true as slick as his sword. Through his pain, Ryurk choked through his words. “I can’t. I can’t give up,” he said, sounding more of a plea than anything else. “I have to try.” 

Master Ku sighed. A cool breeze followed, slapping Ryurk across the face. He paced around silently for a moment. The expression on his face changed as slow as a parting storm. What replaced his disappointment was something far worse: pity laced with disgust. Of course, he changed it the moment he recognized it he was making it. A master of the sword could not be seen expressing such emotions. That moment of pity struck Ryurk harder than the lightning ever could. “See anger, calm, there is no difference. Weak is still weak.”

“SHUT UP!!” 

A voice screamed. Not his. Ryurk was too broken to say anything. The white form, vaguely shaped like a woman in a white kimono, stood between them. “That’s enough,” she said. Her voice was soft, touching his ears and fluttering his heart. “He’s heard enough of that. You don’t think he’s hurting. He almost watched a friend die, watch almost watched his sister die. And you come just to put salt his wounds.” 

Master Ku smiled. “Lady Kuraoi Snowpetal. It’s a shame that we lost you. You could’ve been something.” 

“I died protecting people that I love, there’s no shame in that.” Kuraoi widened herself, standing straight amongst the clouds. Snowflakes swirled around her, falling endlessly with every step. She looked over her shoulder. Her face was still a bit blurry, her form shifting in a soft ethereal mist. What he could see, he remembered as clear as day. Those beautiful blue sapphire eyes.“He will get it, he will make it, and he will surpass even you. I will not let you defame him anymore.” 

“That was never my attention. I’m only stating the truths. He’s going to get someone killed. He’s going to repeat the mistake he made with you.” 

Kuraoi crossed her arms within her ghostly kimono. “There was nothing he could’ve done there. You know that and I know that.”

“He could have  _ NOT  _ got himself almost killed.” Master Ku rolled his eyes. “You came all the way to this plane to argue with me and you’re wasting your time. You were a fantastic student, Kuraoi, but your husband is a fool. That hasn’t changed in fifteen years so it will never. You can’t protect him all the time because he surely did not return that favor.” He turned his back. The clouds swirled around him and the summit began to melt away around them. “But I suppose of my message was received, I’m glad it’s this one: listening and understanding…” A strong gust of wind rolled through the elemental summit. “My well wishes,” the djinni said, bowing. Not to Ryurk, never to him. Kuraoi. He respected her still. That respect will never graze him. And with that last small slap in the face, his master blinked away. 

“Ryurk,” Kuraoi said as the dream world began to fall away. Bits and pieces, the clouds they were standing on faded. The sunlight around them shattered into rays, falling across the sparkling snowflakes. The world darkened bit by bit. The world, the dream, was fading. “You win. You lose. It doesn’t matter as long as you survive. I don’t know if you remember, but you said one thing to me that always stuck out. As long as you have one coin in your pocket, you’re never broke. Believe in that coin, Ryu.” 

“I love you, Kuraoi ...and ...I'm sorry.” 

“I’m going to pretend that you never apologize.” She laughed. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “Maybe next time,” she said finally, rubbing his hair. He barely felt her. “If not next time, then you’ll try again. No one remembers the short-comings of a legend.” She came close this time. Ryurk felt the cold resting near his face. The watery skin around his cheeks began to freeze, lowering herself closer and closer until the blurring shape of her lips were inches away. “Remember who you are, even through the ups and through the downs. Promise me that.” A little closer. Just a bit closer, her lips were almost to his. 

The dream faded and her kiss never made it to his lips.

***

Ryurk awoke this time in the belly of the airship. The pain of the battle still coursed through his body. Can a water genasi burn? His half-orc side at least did. New and blackened scars riddled his skin, scars he wasn’t proud of. The side of his head still ached with pain from the boulder that threatened to crush him on escape. He rose. The world around him tossed and turned, blurry around the edges. A concussion most like. Not the first he had ever had but easily the worst. Slowly, he rose from his bed, the world coming into focus. _I’m still not strong enough,_ he realized. _It’s will never be enough._ Ragged breathed and broken minded, it was not his even own words that got him out of bed. _I can’t even do that on my own._ He clawed at his back, nails raking streaks of blood down the back of his neck. _It’s still not enough. It’s never going to be enough._ He rose from his bed.

Swallowing his own shame, he turned to the sleeping form of Pabi, curled up in the corner of his room. She had chosen to have her own room for a while. Ryurk’s rage got the better of him before and he had destroyed everything in his cell to blow off some steam. She didn’t want to be around for that. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had returned his wyrmling son Mochi cuddled at the side of his aunt. The familiarity of family wasn’t enough to stop her from writing in her sleep. The bile in Ryurk’s mouth rose again, remembering the look of his frightened sister staring up at the blue dragon, her bow trembling in her hands. Was his life going to be remembered the bad things that happened to the people he loved? Was that going to be an endless loop playing in his head for the rest of his days? Soured and pained, he quietly approached her. 

He was careful as he picked her up. Pabi was small; Kobalds always were. He cradled her, trying his best not to her up. A few times, her eyes flickered open. “It’s just me,” he whispered, bringing her into a hug. They embraced for a moment, Pabi’s panicked breath slowing a tad. After a time, he moved her to his much larger bed, placing her down on the pillow. It almost served as a bed alone. Ryurk smiled a little and tucked his little sister in. That was enough for now. Pabi needed her rest. 

After kissing Mochi on his head and finding his sword resting by the door, he crept out of the door. The airship was quiet. Everyone was recovering from the wrath of the Ancient Blue Dragon. Ryurk slowed around Jai’s door. Jai did her best to comfort him after she and Clarke broke the curse. Was she particularly good at talking about it? No. She was terrible at it but she tried her best. Ryurk closed his eyes, saw only lightning. His watery skin tingled again, skipping against hairs of his arms and down his back. Nothing like Jai. He barely held on; she almost didn’t.  _ What could’ve I have done?  _ Nothing. The answer was nothing. Nothing has changed, in that his master was right. 

As he truly awoke in the dead of night, Ryurk began to realize what he has been doing wrong. His master’s cool words taunted him. He hadn’t a weapon against that. There were so enemies he couldn’t fight. He was still learning, awakening still. Not every enemy will be lucky enough to be a dragon. Not every foe threatening his friend will have all the right tools for him. His bare feet resounded against the wooden planks, his pace increasing with every step. He drew his blade, the hiss of cold crystallizing on the surface of his edge. Curses, ancient dragons, demons resisting blades, pure bad luck. They only lasted for so long.  _ As long as I have a coin in my pocket, I’m not broke.  _ Ryurk reached for his rage and now found ice and a boiling spring underneath. 


End file.
